


Deeper than Blood

by melxncholly



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 03:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20575982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melxncholly/pseuds/melxncholly
Summary: The apartment doesn’t feel like home.It can’t be home of course. Home was a small and cramped trailer, filled with laughter and the smell of the circus around them. Home was with mom and dad.But mom and dad were gone, and he’d never get that again.There was no warmth, or love here.Or, in which through playing the system, Dick Grayson ends up as the foster son of one Willis and Catherine Todd.





	1. Rough Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> this is an au ive been thinking of for a while! just simply bc im very into the idea of dick growing up with the todds for the first few years of his life. theres more to definitely come, as ive been filling a notebook with passages and ideas, so i hope you guys enjoy this lil intro to it.

The apartment doesn’t feel like home.

It can’t be home of course. Home was a small and cramped trailer, filled with laughter and the smell of the circus around them. It was rarely clean, but it was filled with warmth. Home was with mom and dad, their hands in his, goodnight kisses on his cheeks while they said their _ I love you _’s.

But mom and dad were gone, and he’d never get that again.

There was no warmth, or love here.

“Here Richard.” Catherine’s voice is raspy, and Dick feels like some sort of centerpiece at this dinner table. Her hands shake as she puts food on his plate, and the smile she gives him doesn’t quite reach her eyes. He’s been here for two weeks. He misses his mom.

“Thanks Mrs.Todd.” Dick’s not hungry; he’s more sad than anything, but he doesn’t want to waste food. They don’t have much, and he’s afraid of risking Willis’s anger more than anything if he’s wasteful.

“Oh, please, Richard, just call me Cathy, okay?” Dick nods, and Catherine smiles at that as she continues serving the table. She gives more food to her son than Dick or Willis had gotten, but Dick’s okay with that. Jason’s so small, he needs it more than Dick does. He hopes Willis doesn’t get angry because of it. 

There’s bruises on Catherine’s arms, mottled green and yellow spots stark against her almost-sickly pale skin where her sleeves don’t quite cover. They were a deeper color when he first arrived, and he’s happy that they seem to be healing. 

Dinner is a quiet affair. Willis finishes quickly, leaving his plate on the table and taking his beer as he heads towards the couch. He doesn’t spare Dick another glance as he passes, and Dick lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Dick hasn’t spoken much since he came to live with the Todd's.

There’s no reason to, really; he doesn’t have anything to say when Willis terrifies him, and Catherine’s out of her own head more often than not. Jason wouldn’t understand anything Dick would want to try to talk about. With mom and dad being dead, and the circus gone, he has no reason to speak.

He wishes that he could have stayed with them- the circus, his parents.

He wants his mom.

.

He almost couldn’t go to the funeral.

He had gone into the system so fast, and ended up with the Todd's nearly a day after it happened. Willis had said under no circumstances was he allowed to go to the funeral. Dick had no idea why.

Catherine, in the end, had been able to find out the time and place for the funeral, and she took him and Jason to the cemetery for the service. It was a sad affair with a lot of tears, but the headstones were beautiful, and Dick was able to get a chance to say goodbye.

Pop Haly had given him a long hug and pressed a number into Dick’s hands before they left. On the bus ride home Catherine had pulled Dick close to her side and promised him she’d try her hardest, for his sake. 

He was thankful for that at least.

.

“Get up," Willis says. He kicks the mattress Dick is sleeping on and throws his clothes at Dick as he's sitting up. “And get dressed. We’re going out.” 

The door slams shut behind Willis, and the sound wakes Jason up with a gasp. The poor boy is wide eyed, shaking like a leaf as he scans the room, leaving Dick to wonder how often this kind of entrance and exit must happen to make Jason seem so afraid.

Dick helps him lay back down, and tucks the covers under and around Jason like how his mom used to do for him, and dresses himself quickly before joining Willis in the living room. 

Everything about this is setting of warning bells in his gut, but what choice does he have? He hasn't seen it but he knows Willis hurts Catherine, Dick doesn't want to be next.

There’s a glow from the television, illuminating the darkness of the room. Catherine is asleep on the couch, an arm thrown over her eyes as she snores softly. Evidence of whatever she'd used to help her get to sleep that night, along with the usual amount of Willis's empty beer bottles rest on the coffee table. The TV casts shadows in scary shapes on the wall. The dishes from dinner are still piled up in the sink. Willis stands impatient, waiting for him at the door. The frown on his face doesn’t make Dick feel great.

He wants his mom.

Willis huffs, puts his phone in his pocket, and stares at Dick as he pulls on his sneakers. He swallows before speaking. “Where are we going?”

Willis measures him with a glance, and then grins, causing Dick to immediately feel worse. He slaps a hand down onto Dick’s shoulder and keeps it there, pulling Dick close to his side as he guides them out of the apartment. “I have a job for us,” he says, walking out into the night. The cold night air hits Dick, stinging his face, and he’s grateful for the sweatshirt he pulled on before he left. “For you, actually, specifically. Since you’re livin’ under my roof, you need to earn your share.”

Gotham streets all look the same, especially in the dark, and Willis’s words leave him feeling uneasy and sick. He wants to run… But he doesn’t know where to go. He’d just be lost in an instant, probably get in more trouble than he already is now. Dick’s stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he doesn’t know what to do. Willis squeezes his shoulder hard enough to hurt and leads them down into the alley.

.

Willis, Dick learns, works for some guy named Tony Zucco. He's scary, but in an imposing, scary-guys-always-around-him kind of way. But Zucco's not there, only some of his guys. Tonight, he’s got a job for his men- and for Dick, specifically. All he has to do is crawl through a vent and shut down the alarms inside.

Dick doesn’t want to do it. He doesn’t want to help Willis or scary Tony Zucco _ rob _ someone. That's not what his parents raised him to do, but here Willis is, throwing in his face a painful reminder that Dick's parents aren't here. 

“Zucco's gotta bone t’pick with Falcone," Dick can hear Willis saying to someone behind him.

“Yeah, but a kid, Willy?” comes the man he’s talking to. 

Dick ignores them.

Cecil, one of the other henchmen, taps Dick’s shoulder and gives him a smile. Dick thinks it’s supposed to be reassuring, but it doesn’t help.

“It’s real easy, buddy,” Cecil says. He takes time explaining the plan to him, and then going over it _ again _ to make sure Dick understands. So far, he’s one of the nicer people Dick’s met here. 

When it's time, the vent pops open easily enough, and Dick gets pushed inside. It’s just barely too cramped, and his back keeps getting scratched by bolts digging down from the top of the vent. He winces every time he touches something that feels even vaguely gross, and he's grateful that he can't see well enough to find out whatever he touches. 

“What’s takin’ so long Richie?!” Willis yells at him from the opening. Dick swallows back the lump in his throat and continues forward. He tries to focus, but-

He wants his _ mom _.

It doesn’t take long to get to the other side, and all it takes is a push to get the other vent cover open. Cecil was right that it would be easy; it takes all of fifteen minutes before he’s back outside, and Willis lets Cecil walk Dick back to the apartment.

In the morning, Willis tells Dick he did good, and despite that, he feels like he failed. His parents would be disappointed in him. He’s disappointed in himself.


	2. Two Weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some chapter notes at the bottom but also, there is a part in this chapter where dick meets his social worker whose kinda scummy and also, is not a good person. he does get a little physical with dick so if that is a trigger for you skip where it says 'wade dodger' to the end of the chapter. ill paraphrase what happened at the end notes.

It happens on his birthday.

“Twelve is a good age,” his dad said, ruffling Dick’s hair. “Soon you’re gonna be all grown up.”

“Oh don’t _ say _ that John!” His mom had given his father a shove, but there was no heat behind it. “Dickie’s gonna be my baby forever.” She pulled him close, pressing kisses into his hair and face.

“_ Mooom _!” He laughed, pulling away from her. His parents both smiled at him, always smiling. 

Sounds of the circus filled the air. Fellow troupe members called to each other as they set up the tents and booths. Mud squished underneath their shoes, the fairgrounds wet from the rain from the night before, but it was okay. Dick was fine with getting a little dirty. November always seemed to be a little cold and rainy, but that was okay.

“Soo…” He looped his arms through his parents, halfway to hanging off of them and being dragged. “When do I get my presents?” His parents shared a look, his mom smiling at his father.

“Presents? What do you mean presents?”his dad huffed. 

“Dad, come _ on _!” 

“Dickie, when you get to be a certain age birthday’s aren’t a thing anymore-” 

“Mom!”

“Oh John, stop torturing him, please.”

His father laughed and ruffled Dick's hair. “Mary? Should we tell him?” Dick turned to his mother, wide eyed and smiling, before he noticed her expression.

“Who are those people?” She wasn’t looking at Dick anymore. Her attention was now on the big top. Dick turned to look, his arms falling to his sides as he peered around his father’s frame. Strange men were gathered outside the entrance, as if on guard. They were dressed nicely, in suits and hats. One of them had an umbrella held to the ground like a cane, probably because of the rain. 

Dick’s father was quiet for a moment. “Stay here, Mary," he said, giving Dick’s shoulder a squeeze. His mother pressed a kiss to Dick’s cheek.

“Go back to the trailer, Dick. Stay there.” She told him before joining his father.

Dick stood there in the mud, hesitating. He should go back to the trailer, but then again… What if this was serious? Something was happening, and he _ wasn’t _ going to be left out. 

The fairgrounds were large, but the circus had a lot of booths. The other workers paid Dick no mind as he snuck around them, all the while keeping an eye on his parents. They had been stopped at the big top entrance, which gave him time to sneak in. 

The main entrance was obviously blocked off thanks to whatever was going on, but the animal tent was close enough to the big top that he could just slip in there and sneak through to the big top. He smiled to himself and ran towards it. 

The animal tent was smaller than the big top, but big enough to keep the animals safe, warm, and dry. He kneeled on the ground, the mud soaking into his jeans, as he crawled underneath the tent curtain. His mom might later wonder _ why _ he was covered in mud, but it'd be worth the interrogation.

“Hah- hey!” Immediately a big, grey trunk was in his face. He smiled and pet the elephant before standing up. “Hi Zitka!” Dick smiled, and reached up to pet the elephant's trunk. Zitka gave a little huff in response, shuffling in her pen. “You won’t tell on me to mom and dad will you?” Zitka huffed, her trunk curling enough to pat at Dick’s head.

“I knew it, you can always keep a secret.” He hugged her trunk with a laugh and gave her a little pat before he slipped out of her pen. The animal tent was empty of performers and staff, and if he wasn’t in a rush, he’d stop to give the animals treats before leaving.

“Sorry guys,” Dick whispered as he slipped through the curtains and into the big top with a promise to come back and play with them soon.

He made his way behind the bleachers, kneeling so that he could see the entire performance space well enough through the seats.

Pop Haly, the Ringmaster, stood in the center of the tent. From what Dick could see, he looked upset. A man stood with him dressed in a fine, mauve suit, holding a matching jacket and a hat in his arms. Around him were more men dressed much like the ones guarding the entrance. He was talking to Pop, and even though Dick couldn’t hear them, the expression on Pop’s face made Dick frown.

He could see his parents being held back by the guardsmen from the front of the tent, who were now stepped inside to restrain the Graysons. His father was a larger and more muscular man than some of the goons. Physically, he was the more intimidating figure, arguing with the guardsmen while his mom stayed aside, pitching in now and then while flicking worried looks toward Pop Haly. Dick's parents were known to be the closest things to saints most of the time; an angry John and Mary Grayson was not something Dick wanted in his life. 

It seemed like the air inside the tent was thick, tense, borderline suffocating. Dick thought that maybe… maybe it had been a mistake to sneak in here.

“Hey boss!” Dick heard from somewhere nearby. He looked over and found a goon pointing right at him. _ Aw cripes _. “We got an eavesdropper!”

Dick yelled as he was grabbed, hoisted into the air by the back of his jacket.

“Hey!” Dick grabbed at the wrist holding him as he dangled, kicking his legs back and forth as he tried to twist and turn out of the much bigger man's grip. “Put me down!”

“Richard!” That was his mother’s voice, terrified for him. His father shouted, and commotion fell. 

He’s not sure if he was able to scratch the man, or if he was thrown, but all of a sudden he was in the dirt. He scrambled away from the man who grabbed him, and all he could hear was shouts from people around him.

The fight started fast. Dick was fairly certain others rushed in when his mother began to scream, for now he could hear Atlas the strongman shouting to his father. Dick was brought to his feet, his mother suddenly at his side, holding him close. Pop was with them, herding the both of them off to the side, away from the commotion.

“Enough!”

Then, it stopped.

The man who had been speaking with Pop earlier was with them now, and his gaze fell to Dick.

He was scary, to say the least. One eye was a milky white, while the other was a deep brown. He had a deep scar running over his face, through the damaged eye, and over his mouth, casting a permanent sneer. His face was unshaven, and his hair was greasy, and he vaguely reminded Dick of every Italian mobster that Dick had seen in the movies.

His mother held Dick closer, glaring at the man who dared to look at her or her son.

“This is very unfortunate, Haly,” the man started. His gaze swept over the big top, and Dick could see some of the circus folk who had joined the fray. 

Atlas was with his father, helping him stand. They slowly made their way to join Dick, his mom, and Haly, whose eyes were locked onto the man who had invaded their home.

“Your man shouldn’t have grabbed one of our own,” Haly said lowly.

Dick shrunk into his mothers hold, willing himself to become small and invisible. The mobster-looking man still looked at him, though.

“And who is this huh? Your circus employin’ kids?” he huffed. “Pretty sure that's against the law, Haly.”

“He’s _ my _son.” Dick could hear his mother’s teeth grind together, and he could feel her nails digging into his arms through his jacket. 

“Richard, right?” The man ignored Dick’s mother, and his father stepped in front of them, now shielding Dick from his gaze. 

“I think you should _ go _," his father said. Atlas stood beside John, arms crossed over his chest. The two of them together formed an impressive defense.

“Fine, fine, I can tell when we ain’t wanted,” The mobster stepped back, his arms up in mock surrender, finally turning his attention back to the ringmaster. “Final offer Haly- don’t make me regret this.”

“And,” Pop stepped beside Dick’s father. “For the final time, I refuse. We take care of our own. We don’t need any help from the likes of you.”

There was a tense moment where Dick thought that the fighting might start again. His father’s knuckles were torn, and he could see deep red lines marring the back of Atlas’ neck.

“Beautiful family you got, John,” the man said, after a moment. Dick looked up to his father, only seeing half of his angered expression from where he stood. “It’d be a shame if something happened to them.” Dick quickly looked back to the mobster, fear prickling up his spine.

“Are you threatening me?” John asked quietly, dangerously. 

The mobster man let out a laugh, one that sent chills through Dick. “No, no. Of course not.” His voice turned cold, and he added, "You’d know if I was threatening you.”

The man turned and left, his men following close behind him. It was quiet in the big top once they were gone, and for a moment, no one dared to speak.

“What was that about…?” Dick finally asked, sparing a glance at his father.

“Nothing, sweetie," his mom replied. She knelt down and took his face in her hands. “Are you okay sweetie?”

He nodded, and she gave a sigh of relief, bringing and holding him close.

“Trailer.” His father’s face was grim. “Now.”

.

“Dick, what were you thinking!”

Dick sat at the table, shoulders hunched as he stared at his feet. His father’s knuckles were patched up, and his mother was working on Atlas in the small bathroom.

“I just wanted to see what was happening…” Dick felt small. He hadn’t meant to cause a fight- he just wanted to see what was going on.

“You could have gotten hurt! Or worse!”

Dick's shoulders shook, and he hiccuped, furiously wiping at his eyes. He didn’t mean it, he was just curious. Sighing, his father kneeled front of Dick. He took Dick’s hands in his own, holding them close.

“I was so worried Dick.” His dad didn’t look mad anymore, just sad. Scared. “I thought something bad was going to happen to you.”

“I’m sorry…”

“I know you are bud.” His father’s arms brought him close, and Dick hugged his dad tightly. “Just please, _ please _, listen next time.”

He nodded the slightest bit, burying his head into the crook of his father’s neck. He’s not sure how long they stayed like that, at some point his mom had come and started to rub his back, speaking softly.

He pulled away, sniffling, and rubbed at his eyes. 

“Now- we have to talk about your punishment.” His mom said as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. He pouted, and his father laughed.

“But, maybe after your birthday.” His father said.

“Do I still get my present…?”

They shared a look, before both sighing. Dick had once of twice wondered if they could read each other's minds.

“Sure Dick.”

“Maybe.”

Or, not exactly.

.

The Big Top at night was Dick’s favorite sight. Sure, there were various booths in the fairgrounds, along with rides and games, and all the sweets Dick could eat for free, but nothing could beat the sight of the Big Top, all lit up at night. 

During shows, he always got the front seat to watch. It amazed him how everyone moved, all the acts, the different personas the performers put on. But his favorite was no doubt his parents act. 

He had performed with them a few times, mostly at smaller shows, where there wasn’t too much risk, and he practiced with them often.

But tonight, tonight he got to do a _ real _ show. 

He got his present after all.

“You nervous Dickie?” Atlas was grinning at him from where Dick sat. He wasn’t nervous per se but- 

“A little? It’s just- It’s one of the big shows!” 

Atlas laughed, ruffling his hair. “You’ll do okay Dickie. You’ll make us all proud.” 

“He sure will.” his dad said, and Dick grinned at him. He and his mom stood together, dressed in red and gold leotards. Each had their faces painted, golden accents and designs decorating their features. Elegant swirls and lines that decorated their cheeks. It was beautiful.

But…

Dad looked uneasy, and mom looked nervous. He could guess what it was about, probably. Maybe the man from earlier in the day, everyone was a bit upset after that incident, and if Dick was honest with himself, he felt bad for causing so much trouble. For upsetting his mother so much.

“Hey John.” Atlas stood next to his father, a foot or so taller. “Can we talk about something?”

His father shared another look with his mom, talking with only their eyes, and she nodded. It was all kind of rude, if you asked him, but he didn’t get a chance to interject.

“How about we get your face done too Dickie?” His mom said, a hand on his shoulder. “Missy still has time before she goes out.”

They just wanted to get him away so they could talk. 

“Sure, I guess so.” He said, and let his mother guide him away.

.

Dick wasn’t afraid of heights. Being up there, ready to perform, he was born for it. His first _ real _ large show, and he was up here, with his mom and dad. 

Not to mention that getting the chance to watch his parents perform? That was a present in and of itself. He’s glad they didn’t make him sit out this time. He has the best seats in the house. His parents seemed to move as one, totally at ease in the air as they twisted and flipped, both with total trust in each other.

Standing, Dick readied himself, waiting for his cue to go. He was nervous, but also excited, his body filled and restless with pent up anticipation.

His mother was smiling. She swung towards him, arms stretched outwards to catch him.

Then-

The sound was deafening. A hush fell over the big top and crowd. It felt like everything began to move in slow motion.

“Mom?”

She started to fall, and he reached for her. Her fingers slipped right through his.

So close.

She said his name, and Dick could see the word forming on her lips, but he couldn’t hear. It was like cotton had been stuffed in his ears, drowning out every sound that wasn’t the frantic beating of his heart.

The wet crack of their bodies hitting the ground snapped him out of his trance. He stared at them, their bodies mangled on the hard ground, red slowly seeping out from under them.

His scream was drowned out among the horrified screams of the audience. His voice, lost in the crowd.

.

When he sleeps, Dick’s certain he’ll dream of that moment for years to come. The snap of the wire, the look on his mother’s face. 

The sound of two bodies hitting the concrete.

Atlas and another man had been the ones to bring him down. It had been almost impossible for him to move, like he had been glued to the spot, just staring down at his _ parents- _

He hadn’t gotten the other man’s name, but Atlas had given Dick to him, and held him close, bringing the both of them out of the big top. 

Dick wishes the man stayed, he doesn’t want to be alone.

All around him is a flurry of commotion. Officers speaking with Pop and the other performers. In the distance, he can see Atlas over the crowd, far, far away.

Dick wants to cry out for him, have him near so he can feel safe.

But he doesn’t have anymore tears left to cry, the tear tracks on his face had long since dried.

The cops spoke to Dick too, but it hurt. 

His voice hurt when he spoke, and thinking of how his mother looked when she fell- he couldn’t.

Why couldn’t he save them? She was so close, so close-

Dick sat still, chilled to his core despite the blanket laid out over his shoulders.

He wanted his mom.

From where his head was hung, he could see someone step in front of them. Their shoes were covered in mud, and when they spoke, it was low and scratchy, like they had coughed one too many times.

“Richard Grayson?”

Dick looked up, blinking to get the fuzz from his eyes. Just enough to see who it was clearly. It was a man, tall enough that Dick had to crane his neck up to see all of him. His cheeks and nose were red, most likely from the November chill, and his bead was patchy in places. His hair, from what he could see under the big hat he wore, had an unnatural, greasy shine to it, catching the light from the emergency vehicles that had come to the fairgrounds. The clothes he wore, a suit and a large coat, didn’t seem to fit him very well.

He kind of reminded Dick of the men from earlier, but he didn’t want to think about them. He stood there smiling, like he was waiting for Dick to answer. Dick shifted, pulling the blanket around him a little closer, leveling the man with a blank stare. The man’s smile slowly fell when he saw that no, Dick wasn’t going to respond, and gave a heavy sigh.

“I’m Wade Dodger.” He sat next to Dick, putting a heavy arm over his shoulder, and pulled him towards his side. He gave a little groan at that, trying to move, but Wade was stronger than he looked. “I’ve been assigned to your case. Gonna bring ya to one of our kids homes for the night.” He smiled again, and Dick wanted to curl up away from this man. It made his stomach hurt, and he wanted to just get away.

“I don’t wanna go.” Dick pulled his knees up to his chest, curling up enough so he wasn’t held so _ close _.

“Sorry kid.” Wade said, not sounding sorry at all. Dick glanced at his face, and the smile he had made him want to run. The police that had been around were all gone now, the crowd farther away than it was at first. He wanted to run, find Atlas or the nice man who had held him before, he wanted to be held close, protected.

He wanted his parents back.

The thought just made tears spring up again, and that was a surprise. He could still cry.

“I don’t wanna go…” He was whining now, and Wade sighed from next to him. Like it was Dick being diffifult.

In a way he was, but he didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to _ leave _.

“Richard…” Wade was leaning down next to him, to close for comfort, and Dick shook his head stubbornly, if that would make him stop talking.

“My names Dick-”

“That’s a _ nasty _ word Richard. You best be careful of what you say.” Grabbing Dick’s arm he _ squeezed _, hard enough to bruise it felt like, and pulled Dick up from where he sat. He stumbled, nearly slipping into the mud if it weren’t for the man holding his arm. 

“Now you listen to me.” He sounded angry, like how his dad sounded earlier. It mad Dick stand up a little straighter, bite back whatever argument he had. His arm hurt from where he yanked Dick, and he was still holding onto him. From where Wade stood in front of him, hunched over, Dick could smell the foul odor of his breath when he spoke. “We’re gonna get your things, and leave. You are not going to make a scene, or you will regret it.” Wade’s nails were digging into the tender skin of his arm, and Dick nodded, biting his lip so he wouldn’t cry.

“Good boy.” Wade straightened up, and laid a hand on Dick’s back, pushing him forward. The stopped at his trailer, and with a backpack filled with some clothes and his stuffed Zitka hidden at the bottom, he was taken away from everything he ever knew. No looking back, no stopping, no goodbyes.

He didn’t see how Commissioner Gordon, or the kind Mr. Wayne who had helped him came to find him missing, both with a once in a lifetime offer for him.

The very next day, he was taken to a little apartment, hidden in the East Side of Gotham, hidden in the Narrows, to live with his new foster family.

Dick didn’t get to see the circus again, not for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, a few notes!
> 
> -i knew dick had various different dates for his birthday, so i went and looked them up. lo and behold! one of his incarnations has a november birthday! a day before mine! just bc it fit in with the season i wanted to place the fic in, for all purposes in this au, he is a november bby and a scorpio, because i love it and i say so
> 
> -in this universe, tony zucko is actually one of the leaders of one of gothams crime families. it gave me an excuse to pair dick up with the todd family, bc willis at first works for them
> 
> -i forgot to mention this in the last chapter, but jason is actually like 4 in a half at the start of this fic. i really like the big age difference between him and dick, sue me. 
> 
> IF YOU SKIPPED TO THE END AFTER 'WADE DODGER'  
-dicks social worker introduces himself  
-he wants to get dick to come with him, because dick cant stay at the circus  
-dick, upset refuses to go  
-wade squeezes his arm and hurts him, until dick agrees to come with him  
-wade takes dick away from the circus  
-dick doesnt get to see commish gordon or bruce wayne making their way to where dick was sitting


End file.
